Found in a pound net, thin, not
eating. Rescued by fisherman and long time turtle friend,
Lennie. Lennie (the human) is soon to retire and he will be
missed

THE STORY

Lennie was admitted with
blunt force trauma to the head, an
easy diagnosis considering the obvious damage to his skull and eyes. He
was
also thin and lethargic, but unlike the emaciated “barnacle Bill”
turtles we
get, we knew Lennie’s condition was directly related to the head injury
and the
resulting poor vision. He was literally “dazed and confused.” We
surmised that,
for all intents and purposes, he was blind in his right eye. It was
sunken and
atrophied. But we were operating on the hope that his left eye, despite
being
damaged and covered partially with a film remained somewhat functional.

At
first Lennie refused to eat, but soon we realized he
wasn’t just being stubborn. He literally couldn’t find the food we were
giving
him, so it was time for us to adapt to his condition.
That meant
feeding him small pieces of squid and filleted fish, one at a time and
held
directly under his nose. We all cheered when he took that first bite,
and once
he had his wait-staff trained he couldn’t get enough to eat.

But what to do with a turtle with bad eyesight? Contact
“Wendy’s” ophthalmologist, of course. So right
after the holidays Jean
and
Lennie made the trip to Virginia for an exam and consult with Dr. Brad
Nadelstein, DVM, ACVD. I could give you all the technical terms for the
tests,
and for the problems he found, but the bottom line is: Lennie is blind,
and
surgery wouldn’t help.

So now we have a blind, but otherwise thriving sea turtle
with no hope of being released. That’s when the really serious thinking
and
discussion starts to happen. Could he be happy living permanently under
our
care? Because he grabs at his food so eagerly we think he has at least
some
sense of smell. We know he hears, because he’ll turn his head and
follow your
voice when you talk to him. He’s not very big right now, so even though
he’s in
one of our smaller tanks he isn’t showing any signs of depression from
being
confined. In fact, he may feel quite secure because his environment is
so
limited and familiar to him. If he’s taken from his tank the flippers
fling
forward in the typical sea turtle defensive posture, but if he hears a
familiar
voice he’ll immediately relax. He especially enjoys his weekly massage
from
Miss Peggy.

Lennie will be closely watched, and showered with love for
the next year or so as we observe his behavior and look for any signs
that he’s
unhappy. If things go well, Jean will begin the process of petitioning
for the
necessary federal and state permits that will allow us to keep Lennie
as an
“educational turtle.”

Endangered sea turtles don’t normally stay at the facility
forever; sometimes it could be a matter of days before they are better
but, more often, years before they reach their peek potential and are
considered normal again. The mission of the Karen Beasley Sea Turtle
Hospital is to heal the creatures and place them back into their
natural state, living in the ocean. The staff does not focus their
treatment to make them dependent upon human hands for food or survival.
Their goal is to return them to the sea.